


Toasted Love

by Misfit_Meraki



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Other, Post Revolution, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24086623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misfit_Meraki/pseuds/Misfit_Meraki
Summary: How does an android so new to emotions cope with love?
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 10
Kudos: 12





	Toasted Love

**Author's Note:**

> :)))

Unforbidden love was a concept the android had once never understood. Love, in general, was a tricky monster of its own. So complicated. So human. Something he thought he’d never understand. He wasn’t meant to, after all. 

He was programmed to hunt his own kind, kill them despite their pleas to continue living. He was made to be nothing more than a killing machine. When his mission was complete, he’d be nothing, obsolete.

But then he was given hope. The revolution set not only him free, but a whole population. He had never felt more proud. He hadn’t felt proud before, come to think of it. He was pleased to find it was one of the first few things he's ever felt. 

Next was admiration. Admiring Markus and his work, appreciating the Lieutenant for inviting him into his home. It made his heart swell with joy. Hank felt the same way, from what he gathered. He’s glad the man had warmed up to him, despite their difference in blood. 

Hank had been more than welcoming. He provided full understanding to a point that Connor couldn’t fully grasp what made him worth the effort. He was once a traitor to both sides of the revolution, of course. Yet still, Hank promised him a better life than he couldn't have deserved.

He seemed to feel different around the Lieutenant, he couldn’t pinpoint it at first, but he knew something changed. The looks they shared, the touches that spiraled between them. Sometimes it was too much to handle. 

Was it normal to feel this way? 

He had to find out. He did as much research as he could. He even researched down to the smallest details, to the flutter of his heart to the stir in his pants.

He was in love.

That… Can’t be right. 

Hank was like his father. He even called him “son” and “kid.” It was wrong. It was weird. 

This quickly turned weirder as it morphed into an obsession. 

He began to collect things around the house that he stored in a box that he hid. Things he kept to himself. 

A razor Hank hadn’t cleaned the hairs out of, sometimes he’d cut himself just so the hair could enter his bloodstream, a half-eaten banana that had rotted down to mush that Connor would smell for hours, reminding him of Hank, and a pair of underwear. Connor often found himself licking the skid mark on the worn cloth. It brought him so much joy it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Nevertheless, he decided to confess his feelings.

“I think I love you, Hank,” he had said on one late afternoon, his words full of admiration and hope. They had been in the middle of a case review from home, so this wasn’t exactly the  _ best  _ time to confess, but he felt as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

Hank sputtered and coughed his toast everywhere, forcing Connor to perform the heimlich. This lasted for several minutes until Hank was finally able to take some stable breaths.

“What- the fuck!?” Hank says, beating a fist to his chest in an attempt to revive his suffering lungs.

Connor doesn’t know how to respond. This obviously was going poorly so he pulled himself back. 

“I said-“ 

“I heard what ya fuckin’ said, kid!” The Lieutenant breathed, rubbing a hand through his messy hair.

Connors' eyes followed the digits. This motion was enough to put him in a trance. His eyes break away when the Lieutenant shakes his head. His stress levels had spiked exponentially. 

“I’m sorry if this comes to a surprise, Lieutenant. I’ve recently gathered information and-“ 

“You’re like my fucking son! Shit- Con you even  _ act  _ like him sometimes- Jesus, fuck. You’re just confused.” 

Connor places a hand on the table, finding himself mere inches from the taller man's face.

“I can assure you I’m not confused,  _ daddy _ .” 

Hank looks beyond uncomfortable and stands, pushing the android away. Before Connor can say anything, Hank makes a beeline to the liquor cabinet. Connor quickly intervened.

“You can’t drink every time you don’t know how to cope with emotions, Hank!” 

“I know how to cope plenty! Now, get the fuck out of my way!”

Hank pushes Connor aside, and Connor relents, watching the man grab the bottle with the high alcohol percentage before walking towards his room in a retreat.

“Lie-“

“Shut up. I can’t handle this right now.” 

And then Connor was alone, standing pathetically under the kitchen's low light by himself. 

How could he have fucked this up so badly?

He feels a single tear streams down his cheek. He brings a finger to it gently. He observes the liquid before placing the finger in his mouth, sucking the salty tear dry. 

He sighs in discontent. 

He had failed.

*****

Connor and Hank had avoided each other more than they ever had. They hadn’t talked even when case related, and when they returned home they spread into separate rooms.

Hank didn’t ever come out to prepare a full meal. He’d just place bread in a toaster to quickly find his daily nutrition. Connor wanted to bring up the unhealthiness of this, explain the lack of vitamins and the number of carbs but found himself quiet whenever the Lieutenant was around.

Eventually he grew jealous of the toaster.

It somehow got more attention than him, and each day he grew angerer.

Anger was a new emotion he had learned along with jealousy. It all irritated him to no end. There was nothing he could do. Or so he thought.

One day Hank had made his daily bread and returned to his room for the night. Connor waited until he was sure the man was asleep before stalking up the opposing box of metal.

“I can’t believe you,” Connor says, looking at the toaster. “You really think you deserve more attention than I?”

The toaster doesn’t say anything.

“I took part in a fucking revolution! What have you done, make toast?” 

The toaster still says nothing.

“Yeah? I don’t care about that. Nothing is more important than Hank.

It’s still a fucking toaster.

“Well, I got news for you, pal! If I can’t have Hank, no one can!” 

Connor picks up the toaster, shaking it and watching the crumbs fall to the counter.

“Die!!!!”

Connor shakes the toaster for some time, yet it still mocks him as it sputtered. Eventually, the motions stop, and Connor finds himself staring at his reflection in the metal.

“I’m sorry…” He mutters. He hugs the toaster to his chest. “I know you mean no harm. But I’m so broken inside. I haven’t any clue what to do.”

The toaster begins to heat up suddenly and Connor pulls back in surprise.

“W-Woah, toaster-chan, what are you doing?” 

The toaster seems to hush him as he pulls closer to his face.

“What If Hank sees?”

The toaster persists despite this and captures his lips in a hot kiss.

They stay like that for some time until the kisses get heavier. Suddenly the toaster gets lower and lower until it's facing right against Connors half-hard chub. It looks up for permission and Connor nods, his lip caught between his teeth.

The zipper is unzipped and his cock hits his stomach as it pops out from beneath his pants. He hadn’t been wearing underwear.

He shoves his dick in the toaster and immediately regrets it.

_ It hurt _ .

“Ow! Fiddlesticks! My android cock!”

Connor pulls out and the toaster immediately looks displeased. 

“I- think we need lube-“

This would be a problem, given that they didn’t have any. Not that Connor knew of, anyway.

_ Oil.  _ He thinks to himself. Specifically motor oil. He quickly sets down the toaster and makes his way to the garage, pushing the door open quietly before grabbing what he needs and returning to senpai toaster.

“This should make things easier.” He says, slimming his dick with the greasy oil. He rubs some on his nipples, moaning in delight as his eyes fall closed. He continues to stroke his erect areolas and peaks an eye at the toaster that watched him. From the corner he can see he’s got sumos attention as well.  _ He always wanted an audience. _

He makes a show of it, morning a writhing under his own touch. Eventually he’s too hard to continue, his patience running thin. He oils up the toaster before aligning his erect member.

“Tell me to stop if it hurts too much,” he winks. 

He pushes his cock in, allowing the toaster to take his virginity as his shaft sinks lower into the metal box.

He thrusts slowly and shallowly into the box at first, until he quickly picks up the pace. Soon he’s full force fucking his phallus into the desperate little toaster.

“Yeah, you like that?” Connor moans in question. 

The toaster doesn’t respond because it’s physically incapable of human speech.

“Frick yeah, man. Take my cock, you slut.” 

He continues to violate the toaster as if it were a glorified fleshlight, watching his dick become greased with precum, oil, and breadcrumbs.

“I’m close-“ he mutters between thrusts.

He fucks quicker into the toaster, reaching his climax. 

“Oh Hank!” He yells, cumming into the slot of the toaster.

He thrusts through his orgasm, riding down from his high, his breaths, although unnecessary, are hot and heavy. 

He looks to his side to see Sumo is watching, erect. 

“Maybe next time it’ll be me and you, buddy.” He winks to the Saint Bernard.

He looks down to see the mess he made. A mass of crumbs stick to the cum that continues to leak from his dick, some plugging the urethra like a cork on a wine bottle. There’s some medium length cuts along his shaft from the metal internal work of the device, leaking blood everywhere. 

He pushes the bread pieces out, only pissing slightly as the rest of the crumbs and semen shoot out of his phallus and into the toaster.

He pulls out slowly, mixtures of blood and oil leak to the floor as he huffs in satisfaction.

“Was it good for you?” 

The toaster is still a toaster.

“You’re messy. Here, let me clean you.” 

Connor brings his hot and moist tongue to the warm metal, dragging it tantalizing slow across its surface. It’s a strange texture. He withholds the urge to gag but succumbs to it, vomiting into the toaster slot.

“We should clean up.” He gags, “for real.” 

He smiles and takes the toaster to the bathroom, setting it down before running a hot bath.

“Do you have a temperature preference?”

It doesn’t respond.

“Ah. Yes.” 

He begins to add soap to the mixture, basking in the smell of flowery soaps that now steamed the bathroom.

“Alright. It’s ready.

Connor sits in the tub and raises the toaster.

“Don’t be shy. The water’s just fine.”

He slowly lowers the toaster into the tub, and blacks out as is intensely shocked.

*****

Connor was gone.  _ He was gone. _

The android killed himself right in his bathtub and he hadn’t been able to do a thing.

He cries as they load the android on the gurney and away in an ambulance. 

He lost another son. It was all his fault. It was all because he couldn’t be enough for the android. All the poor kid needed was guidance. He was confused, so new to emotions, and he let the boy down. He was a failure.

Now all he had was the toaster he ended his life with. He clutched it closer to his chest as his tears fell fast and heavy, dissolving into sobs.

Sumo whines from the living room, his head resting on his paws.

“I know boy, I know.” 

He wipes his tears, looking to the toaster.

There was only one thing he could do.

He plugs in the little device and grabs out a piece of bread, along with a box of Connors collectibles he had found. There was a rotten banana that he would use instead of butter. It must have meant something to Connor if he kept it. 

He sniffles, pulling out two pieces of bread.

“This one's for you, Con” 

He places the two pieces in the toaster and pulls the lever, falling back when he hears a moan.

“What the-?!”

He looks around to see no one, his eyes returning to the toaster.

He presses the lever again to have the same response.

Was that-

“Connor?!”

“H-Hank-“

Hanks's eyes widen as he stumbles back, falling to the ground.

“N-no way- what the-“

“I-it’s so warm- where am I?!”

Hank manages to gather himself, standing slowly. 

“You’re- you’re in my toaster?! How?!?”

“I must have transferred into it when I was electrocuted. Hank! I’m scared!” 

“It’s okay son, it’s okay.” He comforts, placing a hand on the side of the metal. “I’m right here.” 

The toast rumbles slightly, effectively scaring Hank as the toaster-  _ Connor  _ moans again. 

“A-Ah!”

The officer quirks a brow.

“What’s those noises for, Con?”

“It- Ah- it feels so good.” 

“What? This?” 

Hank presses the lever again.

“Ah! Yes! More!”

Hank smirks, only slightly weird out. He glances down at his forming chub before returning his gaze.

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Y-Yes! Please, Hank!”

“Ah, ah, tell me what you want.”

“Fill me up with that daily bread, gamer!” 

Hank grins, grabbing more bread and forcefully shoving it into the toaster, earning more little noises from the former android.

“Greedy little thing, huh? Taking all this bread.” He slaps the toaster, causing Connor to moan more. “Yeah, you like that, you whore? Do you like taking my white privileged grain?”

“Yes! Don’t stop!” 

Hank presses his fingers into the toaster, burning his digits to a bleeding mess as he fingers his partner. 

“Hank- Daddy- I’m close!”

“Yeah? Cum for me Connor, come on son, cum for me.” 

And with that, the toast pops up and Connor lets out a shuttering moan, sparks fly everywhere as he does.

“Such a good boy, such a good boy for me.” He soothes, taking out the toast.

“Anything for you, Lieutenant.” 

Hank places the bread on the plate, covering it in the month old banana Connor had saved.

“Thanks for breakfast, Connor.”

**Author's Note:**

> UWu writing is my passion
> 
> Xoxo 
> 
> -Gossip Girl


End file.
